Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 1 - Mugen Train

"Umai!"

The voice was so loud it jolted Reze awake as she tried to open her eyes.

"Umai!"

Distracting. Irritating. She blinked against the dim flicker of lights. Somewhere close, Reze could hear the muffled hum of an engine mixed with the occasional metallic screech—like she was on a train.

The last thing she remembered was nuking the whole city with her power, fighting Denji. Shit. She had failed to retrieve the Chainsaw’s heart. Failed. Even though she had captured Denji’s heart with her charm, the Chainsaw’s heart was still out of her reach.

“You shouldn’t have taught me how to swim!”

Denji’s voice echoed in her mind as memories of their last duel flickered again. The Chainsaw Man had chained her to him, pulling her into the water. Her powers were useless there, swallowed by the ocean, and for the first time in her life, she felt truly helpless—like that childhood memory of being trapped in a room… a tool in someone else’s war. That was what she had been. A tool. Now… a broken, useless tool.

But she was not underwater. Reze could breathe properly, she could hear the rhythmic click-clack of the wheels blended with the faint chatter of passengers… She felt like she was moving.

“Umai!”

That voice again.

Reze blinked against the soft glow of lanterns swinging from the ceiling. She was sitting across a mountain of bento boxes, the aroma of rice and grilled meat filling the air. 

Denji?

No. A different blonde was plowing through meticulously packed bento like he hadn’t eaten in days.

She froze for a moment, taking him in. His long blonde hair had flame-colored highlights. It framed his face as he moved, biting into the food with precise, confident motions.

“Umai!”

That distracting voice was his.

“Excuse… me,” she murmured, trying to compose herself. Her throat still felt sore from being underwater for so long.

“Hm?”

The stranger paused mid-bite and set his bento box aside. His golden eyes peered through the gaps of the stacked meals and finally noticed her.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you there,” he said, tilting his head with curiosity. “You’re all wet… but I didn’t think it was raining.”

Reze smiled. That fake warm smile she always wore.

“I wonder why,” she muttered under her breath, brushing wet strands of violet hair from her face as her green eyes fell on the drenched, oversized white shirt clinging to her. Her stomach dropped when she realized it.

It wasn’t hers.

It was Denji’s.

She had nothing underneath, only the oversized, soaked white shirt that belonged to him.

Denji, however, was nowhere to be found.

She looked around and realized she really was on a train. Not the crowded, modern ones she used to ride in Tokyo—but an older train, with polished wooden panels, flickering lanterns, and brass fittings that gleamed under the warm light. The passengers were a mix of both. Some wore normal clothing, while others were draped in traditional kimonos and haoris.

“Looking for something?” the blonde asked, his voice warm and lively.

Reze’s gaze flicked to the glass door behind her, catching glimpses of other wagons stretching down the train. If this shirt was Denji’s, then he must be here too. Or at least… she hoped so. 

“I’m Kyojuro Rengoku. And you are?”

Her emerald eyes met his golden ones, and she offered a small, hesitant smile.

“I’m Reze… just Reze.”

Rengoku’s expression softened, and he reached for his haori, draping it over her shoulders. “You sound just like someone I knew. She’s about your age too… her name is Kanao.”

Reze shivered as the man's haori draped over her shoulders, the warmth a stark contrast to the chill of the ocean she had just left behind.

She hesitated, her voice barely above a whisper. “Where… am I, Rengoku-san?”

“You’re in the Mugen Train,” he replied gently.

“Mugen… train?” she repeated, confused.

Rengoku smiled warmly. “You should eat something. Here! Try one of these.” He handed her one of his bento boxes. “You look so pale.”

She took the bento box and carefully opened it. Inside was gyunabe, stir-fried sliced beef, rice, and a perfectly soft onsen egg. The rich aroma of soy sauce made her stomach rumble.

She took a cautious bite and froze for a moment at the flavor.

It was delicious.

“Umai!” Rengoku shouted again.

“U..umai.” She repeated after him, almost like a whisper.

But then another voice cut through the tension.

“Excuse me.”

Reze turned toward the sound and saw three more people waving at them. One was a boy with auburn hair wearing a green checkered haori. Another was a blonde in a bright yellow haori, and the last—a wild-looking man—wore nothing but pants and a boar mask.

“You’re the kid from that day at the master’s mansion,” Rengoku said to the auburn haired boy.

“Yes, I’m Tanjiro Kamado,” he nodded, a burned mark on his forehead following the motion. 

“Please allow us to introduce ourselves. This is my fellow Corps members Zenitsu Agatsuma and Inosuke Hashibira.”

“I see… and inside that box is—”

Reze felt it before they even finished the sentence. A presence, faint but unmistakable, like a demon. But not her kind. Different. Warmer. Almost… stable.

“Yes. It’s my sister, Nezuko,” the boy said softly.

Reze froze. 

A devil? But why was it hiding in a box? 

“Since the master has acknowledged her, I won’t say a word for now.”

Was she… a tool too? And yet… why did they speak about the devil with such care and kindness?

“And this lady is…” Tanjiro pointed at her, noticing her presence and Rengoku’s haori wrapped around her.

“I’m Reze.” she smiled.

Tanjiro moved closer to her and narrowed his almost crimson eyes.

“Miss Reze, you smelled like something I’ve never smelled before.”

“That’s perverted!” Zenitsu shouted from the back, “Tanjiro, since when are you like this?”

“No, I… I can sense something… foreign in you,” Tanjiro said, raising an eyebrow. “But I can’t tell what it is.”

The boy was sharp.

Reze’s mind raced. If this was a different world and the devils here were different, then she must… smell different. Foreign. Alien. Like she didn’t quite belong.

The question was: what now? Fight? Hide? Or… maybe she could just eat more bento for the time being. That sounded a lot better. After flirting and battling Denji to the death and losing a lot of her energy in the process, bento suddenly seemed like the far safer and far more appealing option.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Rengoku’s voice broke in. He looked at Tanjiro and gestured with a warm smile. “Come, sit with us.”

Tanjiro sat down and Reze continued eating, listening quietly as the three of them discussed missions. From their slang, the way they referred to demons, and the casual authority in their voices, she realized they belonged to some kind of organized group. It reminded her of the organizations from her own world, like the Devil Hunters. It fit the description, but maybe more like Special Division 4, since they brought a demon in a box with them. 

“You’ll never know if a demon will show up in this train,” Rengoku continued.

But a shout came from the other seat, it was the other blonde.

“You’re kidding right? Do demons show up on this train?!”

“Yes,” Rengoku replied calmly.

Zenitsu’s fear shot through the roof. He trembled violently and shouted even louder, “No! The demons are already here? I’m leaving!!!”

“More than forty people have gone missing from this train in a short period of time,” Rengoku continued, ignoring Zenitsu. “The Corps sent a few men to investigate… and they all went missing as well.”

Sounded like a weak, brash and stupid demon. Reze tilted her head. 

“The demon must be growing stronger now, absorbing the power of forty people already, that’s why I’m the Hashira who is tasked here.”

Reze tilted her head again. They eat humans to grow stronger…? she thought, frowning. That’s… inefficient.

In her world, devils didn’t need humans to survive or get stronger. How they gained strength was simple: the more people feared them, the stronger they became. Some made contracts with humans to borrow or enhance powers. Eating humans wasn’t a natural requirement—sure, some devils attacked to satisfy hunger, instinct, or contracts, but it didn’t make them more powerful. And fiends, devils inhabiting human corpses, acted like humans but retained their powers; their “food” was mostly human food or blood.

“Your ticket, please?”

A man in a crisp uniform appeared, holding out his hand and scanning the passengers.

That’s when Reze realized—she didn’t have one.

Her stomach sank. She fumbled slightly, glancing around at the other passengers. Great… this is just my luck, she thought.

One by one, the passengers handed over their tickets, even Rengoku. The uniformed man’s eyes finally settled on her.

“Yours?” he asked, holding out his hand.

“I… I can’t seem to find mine,” she stammered.

The man’s expression didn’t change. He gestured toward the door. “Come with me.”

Reze followed him down the narrow corridor, past the hum of the train and the faint clatter of the wheels, all the way to a car at the far end. That’s when she felt it—a presence. Something eerily familiar, like the girl she had sensed in the box before. Calm? Yes. Warm? Not really.

“Hi there, beautiful one,” a voice called out, though it came from somewhere… unusual.

Reze’s eyes followed the movement.

A hand.

Literally, a hand crawled across the wooden floor toward her. Its nails were painted black, eyes dotted the thumb and pinky, and a small, grinning mouth had formed on the wrist.

She tilted her head, intrigued. Interesting… that’s the demon they’re talking about.

“As you instructed, I cut their tickets and put them to sleep,” the man in the uniform said, dropping to his knees on the floor. His voice trembled with desperation. “This girl didn’t have a ticket! But you can use her as one of them. Now… I finished my job. Please! Put me to sleep quickly too!”

Reze watched him without flinching. So this was the contract holder—pathetic, terrified, begging. Devils in her world made deals like this all the time, but this man’s fear wasn’t fueling the demon… it was draining him instead. Different system, she noted. Interesting.

“Let me see my deceased wife and daughter!” he cried, trembling, his voice breaking as he fell to the floor. “Please, I’m begging you.”

“You did well,” the mouth on the hand’s wrist curved into a smile. “Now… sleep.”

The man’s body went limp almost instantly, collapsing to the floor the moment the demon said sleep.

So that was its skill? What kind of demon was this… a sleeping pill demon? Would people even fear sleeping pills? Some kind of drug, maybe? Technically if people feared sleeping pills or being drugged, a devil could manifest that way. But unlikely. Most people don't fear them. Reze was right. The system and the power must be different here.

“Now, beautiful lady… how would you feel about becoming my dagger? I can give you a beautiful dream too.”

Denji felt his head spinning, the world tilting around him, as he heard Beam calling out.

“Chainsaw-sama!” the shark fiend shouted, its voice cutting through the chaos. “Chainsaw-sama!”

Denji’s eyes finally locked onto him. Beam’s jagged, shark-like teeth flashed in a brief, feral grin.

In an instant, the fiend shifted back to human form—wearing nothing but a blue swimming trunk and a shark mask covering his eyes. His black hair was still dripping wet, water sliding down and splashing onto Denji’s face.

“What happened? Where’s Reze?” Denji shouted, turning his head frantically from side to side.

They were on top of a train—a moving train—racing through the night.

Forests blurred beneath them, and the moonlight spilled over the tracks, casting silver shadows across the cars. The wind tore at his blonde hair, and the engine vibrated through his half-naked body.

“Leave her be, Chainsaw-sama!” Beam shouted, frustration cracking his voice. “Please, let’s just find our way back home!”

“Beam, what happened?” Denji asked, spinning around. “Where’s Reze?!”

“Don’t you remember?” Beam waved his hands dramatically. “Chainsaw-sama saved her after drowning her, gave her your shirt, cried while holding her hand, and said you wanted to run away together!”

“And we ran away together?!” Denji shouted, eyes wide with excitement.

“No, Chainsaw-sama! She was sleeping! She didn’t reply!” Beam yelled back. “But something carried the three of us here! It felt like a different world! Real, too—see?”

Beam punched himself in the chest. “I feel pain!”

“So she’s here too…” Denji’s grin returned. “Do you think Reze could feel it when I kiss her again too?”

“Chainsaw-sama! The last time you kissed her, she bit your tongue until it bled and almost killed you!”

“That was an accident.”

“It wasn’t an accident, Chainsaw-sama! Please stop simping on her and wake up!”

Then suddenly, they heard it—a fight.

A devil.

Denji could feel its presence before he even saw it.

Then a shout.

“Inosuke-sama is here!”

The sound carried far, booming across the cars. Even from the tail of the train, it felt loud and clear in Denji’s ears.

“Chainsaw-sama, we shouldn’t interfere!” Beam grabbed Denji’s shoulder, trying to hold him back. “The thing is different and has nothing to do with us! We have to find a way back home!”

“Are you kidding me?!” Denji shouted, sprinting forward and leaving Beam behind. “Pochita granted me another wish! Pochita teleported me and Reze here so we could run away and start over!”

“Chainsaw-sama!!!” Beam yelled, panic in his voice.

“Like hell I’m going back!” Denji felt an adrenaline surge, the cold wind cutting across his skin as he ran. “Reze!!! Where are you? Let’s run away together!”

“No! Chainsaw-sama!!!”

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 2 - NOT OK

Reze was a soldier.

A tool, a blunt weapon for the Soviet Union.

Her target was the chainsaw’s heart. She didn’t know why or what it was for.

She just knew it was her mission.

But standing on the moving train in the middle of nowhere, she lost it.

Reze didn’t know why she was here. Where the train would lead her. What her purpose was. Whether the Soviet Union even knew she was here.

So she did it.

She did the most random thing she could think of.

Following her instinct.

“How exciting it is to be granted a dream,” Reze said softly at the children walking beside her through the train car. Her white and red haori flared as she jumped through the corridor.

“You… look too happy to want a dream,” one of the demon’s helpers murmured, eyeing her. “Like you already got everything you ever wished for.”

Reze tilted her head with a fake smile. “I can teach you.”

“Huh?”

“How to look happy even when none of your dreams came true.” Her smile deepened, still fake, but deepened.

The boy didn’t answer. None of the kids did. They simply sat down and began unpacking the coils of rope the demon had given them.

“So, who’ll you pick?” a little girl asked.

“Him.” Reze pointed at the sleeping Rengoku.

The children then each selected their own targets—Zenitsu, Tanjiro, and Inosuke. They tied one end of the rope to a victim’s wrist, the other to their own. Then they inhaled slowly, together.

One. Two. Three.

And they fell asleep.

Reze felt it immediately: a foreign power.

The demon hadn’t lied. His ability worked.

As the last child’s breathing settled into deep sleep, Reze’s polite smile dropped into a straight, cold line. She lunged for Rengoku, hooked her arms under his, and hauled him up. The train rocked violently on its tracks, wheels screaming against the rails, but she pushed forward anyway, half dragging, half carrying him down the narrow corridor. She slammed the restroom door open with her shoulder, shoved them both inside, and twisted the lock.

She’d thought she could fix it before things got worse.

Killing the demon would be the simplest solution—but she didn’t know the rules here. If she killed the one casting the spell, would Rengoku ever wake up? Being reckless wasn’t an option. Not this time.

So she tried the obvious.

She grabbed his black uniform collar and shook him. Hard. 

“Wake up!”

Nothing.

She ran the sink, filled her hands with freezing water, and splashed it directly onto his face. The droplets hit his skin, slid over his eyelashes.

Still nothing.

Not a stir. Not a flinch.

His breathing stayed slow, steady… trapped.

Reze clenched her jaw. If she couldn’t wake him here…

Then she’d have to go inside. 

Into the dream. Into whatever world the demon had built. Using those ropes he gave her.

“Breathe deeply and slowly as you count,” the demon had instructed the kids earlier. She recalled the words as she wrapped the rope around her wrist and then around Rengoku’s. “If you do that, you’ll fall asleep.”

Fine.

If that was the system here, she’d use it.

Reze lay beside him on the cold floor, her fingers tightening around the rope one last time.

She exhaled. Inhaled. Counted.

And then everything went dark.

"He said it makes no difference," Rengoku's voice echoed in the darkness.

"But I won't lose my passion because of that!"

Light returned to Reze’s emerald eyes. Then, leaves and daisies brushed against her nose. White daisies. Like the flowers Denji gave to her when they first met. But this time she focused on the house behind the daisy bushes...

The voice belonged to Rengoku standing in front of a child that looked like him. Speaking to each other in a traditional Japanese mansion.

"The flame in my heart won't disappear!"

Loud and clear. Rengoku's voice was loud and clear, even when they weren't sitting across from each other eating bento. So, Reze truly was teleported in Rengoku's dream. The sleeping pill devil hadn’t lied. What if the train had been a dream, and this was a dream within that dream?

No.

She brushed her fingers over the daisy in front of her, but it didn’t feel anything like the one Denji had given her. This one had no scent at all—almost paper-like. Denji’s daisy smelled fresh, faintly sweet, like wild berries mixed with the taste of his saliva. And Denji's shirt on her… it felt real. Even Rengoku’s haori around it. She could smell soy sauce clinging to the haori and salt air from the white shirt beneath.

Why did the demon even trust her?

Devils or demons here must be remarkably stupid, trusting strangers they barely knew with their plans.

When Reze first heard the plan, she instinctively chose the man who had given her the bento. She didn’t want him to die—just as, deep down, she didn’t want Denji to die.

If the devil wanted Rengoku’s life, she would at least try to stop it. Then maybe she could convince the bento-loving man to live a life that didn’t revolve around killing demons, devils, or any other thing that could take him away from this world.

She wanted to tell the man who gave her a bit of kindness in her shallow world something small.

Small to her, but maybe not to him.

A word of advice.

"Stop being someone else's sword and live your life."

She wanted to tell Denji the same thing. God. She wanted to tell herself the same thing.

Would she be a hypocrite if she said that to him?

“You have a big brother,” Rengoku said, and his voice anchored her again. “And he believes in his little brother.”

Did she have a brother? A sister? She didn't remember. All she remembered was that room. She didn't want to go back to that room again. She wanted to run. Anywhere else but that room.

"Whatever path you'll walk," Rengoku's voice echoed again, "You'll be a great person."

Would it apply to Reze too? Could she be a great person if she had a brother like Rengoku, if she had been born into a different world?

She saw his little brother crying, tears falling onto his clothes. Rengoku's eyes were bright, like a Remington bullet she'd seen ricocheting. No, not a bullet, that was too cold. His was warmer, soft enough to be a sunset...

Then her cheek felt warm too—with water. It fell on her cheek. She was crying. But why? She shouldn't have cried. Her brain didn’t process anything to cry to. In fact, she thought those emotions didn't belong in her body. But what she thought was untouched has been briefly touched before. It felt familiar.

She did feel it with Denji at some point. 

But she kept pushing it away.

In this dream, in someone else’s world, she let go. Maybe since it wasn’t her real world, it was okay for her to cry. Even when there was nothing worth crying to. After all, here, she wasn’t the Bomb Devil. She wasn’t Reze. She was sixteen, coming home after a long day at school.

She laughed through her tears, brushing her face with Denji’s shirt. Salt water drying her lips.

Stupid thoughts. She had never even gone to school.

No. Think Reze. Focus.

She was here to help the guy.

So, help.

She recalled the demon saying that the dream was not infinite. That it was circular with the dreamer at the center. There was an unconscious realm within the finite dream. Where his spirit core lies. Destroying it would turn the dreamer’s body into an empty shell. That was what the demon wanted her to do.

But Reze had a different goal.

“Wake up!” She shouted at him.

Rengoku’s golden eyes looked straight back at her emeralds.

Reze burst out of the bushes, heart pounding, and yelled again, louder this time.

“The demon is trapping you in a dream! You have to wake up!”

Denji sprinted toward the moving train. From the far end, he saw three figures fighting near the edge. But he couldn’t see what they looked like. He couldn’t make out faces, just silhouettes—fighting. Something that felt like a devil was there too.

Would Reze be there too?

He couldn’t sense her.

Would they know where she is?

“Reze!” he yelled , pushing deeper. “Where are you?!”

“Chainsaw-sama!”

Denji kept running on the train.

“Chainsaw-sama,” Beam said eagerly, “I’ll do anything you want, please just don’t leave me!”

“HUH?”

The shark fiend wrapped his hands around him tightly. “Don’t leave me in a foreign world alone, Lord Chainsaw!!!”

“Aaargh!” Denji pushed him, “Okay stop it! That’s too tight! I’m not into dudes!”

“Chainsaw-sama!”

“Just turn into a shark!”

In a flash, Beam snapped back into shark form, three eyes opening, water exploding across the train’s exterior like someone threw a whole bathtub at it.

RRRRRRRZZZ!
RRRRRRRZZZ!

Denji pulled his cord. His face slowly split open, a chainsaw emerging and whirring in tight circular sweeps. He whipped a chain around Beam’s teeth and steady his grip. 

“Let’s go there Beam!” He pointed at the three figures.

The shark fiend followed his command. Water splashing as it moved across the train.

“Oi!!! You guys know Reze?!” Denji shouted to the three figures.

But they were busy fighting.

“Hello!” he shouted, digging his hands into the chain as it twisted and lunged forward. But something seemed to shift as Denji felt the train itself changing beneath him.

The air suddenly turned thick with a viscous, purple substance, coating everything like slime… no, more like ghee. The substance hardened as it clung to the train, heavy and unnatural, and the smell made his stomach churn.

It wasn’t just the rooftop. The windows, the wheels—everything on the train was slowly drenched in purple. It was as if a devil had devoured it whole.

He finally caught up with one figure out of the three.

A boar fiend?

He didn’t look very welcoming.

Denji asked anyway, “have you seen Reze?”

“WHAT?”

Instead of answering Denji about her whereabouts, the boar shouted. “You will kneel before the great Inosuke-sama!”

"Are you a fiend Inosuke?!" Denji half-shouted as his roaring chainsaw hands clashed with the two blades rushing toward him.

The boar fiend was fast, he already leapt onto Beam’s head. His deep blue eyes locked onto Denji’s chainsaw eyes. They stood face-to-face, staring.

Heavy.

The boar knew how to hold a grip.

"You have two steel hands!" Inosuke yelled. "I have two steel swords! Let’s see who’s going to win!!!"

"No, I have one thing you don’t!" Denji smirked. "Beam!"

The shark jerked forward, pacing with incredible speed and shaking Inosuke back and forth.

Denji gripped the chains tightly, smirking. "This is the part where you fall."

"OVER MY DEAD MUSCLES!" Inosuke cackled like a madman, his blades still pressing against the chainsaw.

Beam jerked, twisted, and bolted, but Inosuke stayed latched on. In fact, the boar stayed upright, impossibly steady.

Change of plans.

“And, I’ve got three swords, boar fiend!”

Denji lunged forward, trying to headbutt him with his chainsaw head, but the boar already side-jumped into the sky and landed squarely on his shoulder.

They stacked up like Jenga.

Beam.

Denji.

Then the boar.

“What the hell?” Denji swung his chainsaw at the beast, but it had already leapt away again.

He twisted upward, body framing the moon behind him, and the moonlight slammed across his blades, turning them into a glowing X in the dark.

“Beast Breathing, Fourth Form: Slice ’n’ Dice!”

Then, he dropped like a meteor.

Denji tightened his shackles and shifted Beam beneath him, the shark biting into the chains as he moved—but it was too late. 

The blades hit.

Steel tore across Denji’s torso in a blur, carving two rapid slashes that sparked off his ribs before he could even lift his chainsaw. Blood sprayed a little, red and bright, dripping away quickly following the speed of the train.

“I’LL SLICE YOU!!” the boar screamed.

Denji groaned, one hand clamping onto Beam, while his eyes checked the wound. Blood slid off in slow, hot drops.

“Interesting!” Denji shouted at the boar, still buzzing. “Did you see that, Beam? He’s breathing weird!”

“Yes, Chainsaw-sama!”

Suddenly, as Beam swam further away from the boar—Denji could see the rest of the strangers mid-fight against the purple-coated mess devouring the train.

Huh. There were actually four. 

The boar fiend.

A blond dude screaming so loud it shook the windows.

A simple man with an opened box.

And then—

The devil?

No. A girl. A really pretty girl. Pink eyes glowing under dark hair tied with a matching pink ribbon.

Denji blinked. “...Pretty lady?”

The pretty lady blinked back from the edge of the splintered roof—right before the weird gooey purple hands appeared and took her away to the sky.

“NO!” The loud stupid man shouted. “NEZUKO-CHAN!”

“BEAM, LET’S SAVE HER!!” Denji yelled, launching off Beam, chainsaws roaring as he dove to the sky with her.

Denji sliced the purple tentacle-ghee without thinking. The jump twisted his ribs. The cut that had been leaking a little suddenly bursted open from jumping, air pressure and speed. Blood sprayed over Nezuko when he caught her.

“I GOT YOU!! Don’t worry, pretty lady!” he shouted proudly while free-falling off the side of a train going 80 km/h, with Beam lunging upward beneath them.

Denji dropped back onto the train with Nezuko in his arms, landing hard alongside Beam.

As they reached the rooftop again, the rest of the strangers ran toward him—panicked, relieved, frantic. A whole mix of emotions.

Denji hopped down from Beam and steadied her on her feet, her pink bloody kimono brushing the steel of the train roof. But the girl didn’t say thank you. She only tilted her head. Bamboo tilting too in her mouth.

Then she let out a tiny “mmph.”

Then—

BOOM!!

A burst of pink flames exploded around her palms, slamming into Denji’s bare chest point-blank.

He jolted like someone jammed a battery into his ribs.

“What—WHAT WAS THAT?!” Denji yelled, smoke curling off him.

But then he noticed it. His ribs. The wound the boar fiend carved into him. The one that didn’t heal because Denji was too fatigued after his fight with Reze and there had been no blood—

But it was healed… by the pretty lady.

“…Did you just FIX me??”

Nezuko just stared at him with the world’s most innocent face.

“Nezuko! Are you okay?” It was the guy with the box, running over to him.

The stupid looking guy screamed, “WHO IS THAT MAN?! WHY DOES HE HAVE SAWS COMING OUT OF HIM?! NEZUKO-CHAN!!!”

The boar fiend shouted, “YOU’RE LATE KAMABOKO GONPACHIRO!”

The boy with the box snapped, “It’s Tanjiro!”

Then Tanjiro stared at Denji—at the chainsaws revving from his body, the purple ghee dripping down the steel, and the shark fiend currently chewing through the train like it was wagyu.

“Chainsaw-sama, the purple thing tastes bitter,” Beam announced proudly as he was eating the train.

“THEN DON’T EAT IT!!!” Denji yelled, kicking him in the side.

“Understood! Chainsaw-sama!” He spitted it out.

Tanjiro steadied his black sword, eyes narrowing in confusion. “Who… are you guys?”

“Me? I’m Denji!”

“Beam!”

Tanjiro’s eyes widened. “Denji? Beam?”

“An abomination!” The stupid looking blonde declared, hands over his head. “But the abomination is helping Nezuko-chan!”

Before the Denji could even begin to process what abomination meant, twenty more purple demon hands burst out of the train walls all at once.

Beam screamed, “LORD CHAINSAW THEY MULTIPLIED!!”

Denji cut through them with his chainsaw. “GOOD! MORE FOR ME TO CUT!”

Tanjiro moved up beside him, slicing through the purple hands in sync. “I don’t know what you are… but you saved my sister and helped us fight the demon. Thank you.”

“Wait—what demon?” Denji blurted, scrambling back onto Beam’s back.

“The whole train!” Tanjiro shouted over the roar. “It’s a demon!”

“HUUUH?!”

“We have to find its core!”

“And I have to find Reze!”

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 3 - Bitter

“Zenitsu! Nezuko! Secure the passengers!" Tanjiro shouted.

The two followed his instructions and leaped inside the train.

As soon as they left, Denji watched in mild confusion as the train folded in on itself like someone trying to cram an entire king size mattress into a washing machine. Metal bent, windows wiggled, and the whole thing turned into a swirling purple toilet bowl of ghee.

Huh. That’s new.

Wait…

How am I supposed to find Reze now?

Goddammit. He was supposed to jump into the train with them. He was supposed to go find Reze. To grab her hand, to run with her, to keep her safe.

He lost his chance.

Somehow more purple hands turned into purple swirls. Like it just grew more abstract as they tried to cut it.

“Don’t look at the eyes!” Tanjiro shouted, “Kill yourself in the dream!”

Suddenly eyeballs appeared on the purple ghee,  engraved in kanji and stared right back at him. Denji couldn’t read kanji. Reze taught him once, but this one… he couldn’t read it.

When the eye blinked, the entire space around him shuddered, he couldn’t see a thing. It was as if Denji could only… sleep. 

“DENJIII!! OUTTA MY WAY!!”

A rush of wind followed the shout, and long, silky pink hair whipped past Denji’s face as sakura petals clung to the strands and drifted across her school uniform.

Power.

She stomped forward like the pavement personally offended her. Then she leapt over Denji with zero warning and flashed her strawberry-patterned underwear as she soared over the school gate. Her sharp red eyes glinted with superiority, and she carried her bag like she planned to use it as a weapon.

She did use it as a weapon.

“Ouch!”

“EAT THAT!” she swung her bag on Denji’s head, hard.

How many books did she even put in there?

“Why’re you already causing problems?” Denji groaned, though he was grinning.

“BECAUSE I AM GREAT!” Power shouted proudly.

A calm voice cut through the noise.

“You two are loud first thing in the morning.”

Aki Hayakawa waited for them just inside the entrance, the picture of perfection in a school uniform. Unlike Denji’s and Power’s oversized, wrinkled, definitely-unwashed blazers, Aki’s was crisp enough to look freshly pressed. Not a wrinkle in sight. Even his black hair pulled into his neat topknot was so smooth it looked like he’d ironed that too. A few strands swayed gently as he adjusted his tie, and his sharp blue eyes swept over the two delinquents with a look that was roughly 70% exasperation… and 30% fondness.

“Hurry up. We’ll be late. Makima-sensei is strict about attendance.”

Denji’s breath caught.

“Makima… is our teacher?”

“Why are you so dumb in the morning?” Aki sighed, giving Denji a tired side-eye. “Did you even have time to copy my homework again? Or did you miraculously do it yourself this time?”

“Homework?” Denji blinked.

“I DID!” Power shouted and kicked open the shoe lockers forcefully, then swapped her shoes for indoor slippers. “IT WAS TOO EASY!”

Denji followed after her, slipping into his own indoor slippers. He didn’t know why, but it felt foreign, like it was not part of his routine. But he followed Power anyway.

They walked down the hallway, the morning sun spilling through the windows with sakura blooming outside. The breeze caught the petals, carrying them across the glass in soft pink waves—so many that, for a moment, the whole window looked like Power’s hair.

Petals drifted inside when someone opened a window, scattering across the polished floor like confetti from some festival Denji didn’t remember attending.

Reze was the one opening it.

For a moment, everything slowed.

The breeze swept in gently, catching her breath. Her violet hair, tucked neatly in a ballerina bun, unyielding. But her fringe caught some of the sakura petals and yielded. The petals were swirling around her silhouette in a soft pink storm, framing her like she’d stepped out of some romantic spring movie.

Her eyes, bright green, widened in surprise as the gust pushed harder than expected. Her skirt fluttered, but Denji couldn’t see her underwear because…

She fell.

Slowly, almost gracefully, like gravity was taking its time with her. 

She fell.

Tch. He missed the millisecond timeframe to look at her underwear.

Denji stared. Not to scan her underwear this time, but because for one breathless second, she looked… magical.

Aki broke the spell instantly.

“Your girlfriend is going to get called out by the teachers again,” he said dryly as he slid the classroom door open. “We can’t open the windows during sakura season. Some kids actually have pollen allergies.”

But Denji barely heard him.

He was still looking at Reze—sitting on the floor, hair tangled with sakura petals, laughing quietly at herself as if her fall had been part of the plan.

“Good morning, class,” Makima’s voice echoed from inside the classroom. 

Denji nearly forgot how to breathe, he was still stuck in the hallway looking at Reze’s pretty face.

“TEACHER! I DEMAND SNACKS FOR MY SUPERIOR INTELLECT!” Power shouted.

Makima replied softly. “Power, no snacking during lectures.”

Power hissed. Like a cat.

Aki groaned. “Just sit down.”

“Did someone open the window again?” Makima’s voice echoed down the hall—and then suddenly interrupted by a delicate sneeze.

Denji stiffened.

Aki had said teachers would be mad at Reze. And in this school… The teacher being Makima.

Oh crap.

Without thinking, Denji launched himself toward Reze.

“Run!” he shouted.

Before she could even blink, he scooped her up in a full princess carry. Her skirt fluttered as he lifted her, her thigh warm and soft against his arm. She made a tiny surprised sound before slipping her arms around his neck, steadying herself.

Her face was close. Too close.

“I missed you, Denji-kun,” she whispered.

Her breath brushed his ear—warm, sweet, dangerously familiar. It rushed straight to his head like cheap beer, making his face heat up and the hallway tilt slightly.

Denji’s heart practically exploded.

“L-Let’s skip class today, Reze!” he shouted, voice cracking, enthusiasm overflowing.

She blinked up at him, green eyes bright with amusement. “But where are we going?”

“We’ll just…” he grinned wide, reckless and glowing, “hide under the sakura tree!”

Before Reze could protest, Denji bolted toward the open window. He vaulted over it without hesitation, the motion felt heroic in his head.

But then he realized—they were only on the first floor.

The drop wasn’t scary at all. Not heroic. Not even a little.

He landed lightly on the soft grass below, the petals crunching gently under his feet.

Denji looked up at Reze, still dangling slightly in his arms, her hair catching the sunlight and the sakura petals.

He glanced at her skirt. Still nothing. No underwear in sight.

A smirk tugged at his lips. Maybe the wind was on his side. If it was strong enough, he’d see it! Maybe move it a bit, just a little over her soft thighs! Denji just wanted to take a little peek!

So, of course, he sprinted toward the sakura tree, Reze still in his arms, his brown eyes darting to her skirt like a total idiot, waiting for it to betray her. But it didn’t. Not a single hint.

Until—

“Ouch!”

His head slammed into the trunk of the tree. The impact sent both of them tumbling onto the soft grass filled with sakura below.

Reze rolled onto her side, laughing until tears pricked her eyes. “What was that?”

Denji groaned, rubbing his temple. “It’s just… I wanted to see your underwear, so I ran too fast…”

“What?” Her laughter doubled, petals stuck in her hair as she rolled again. “That’s all?”

“Yeah…” Denji admitted, hand pressed to his forehead, the sting throbbing.

“That’s so silly!” Reze giggled, lying back with petals strewn across her hair and shoulders, pink confetti decorating her like she’d fallen into a spring festival.

Denji blinked, staring at her. Somehow, even embarrassed and aching, he couldn’t help but smile. She really did look… magical. Like the goddess of spring harvest. Ready to harvest his heart.

He’d give it to her.

Denji took her hand and placed it on his wrinkled, oversized school uniform. Right at his chest.

The sudden motion caught her off guard. She froze, laughter fading from her lips as she blinked up at him.

For a heartbeat, they just stared at each other, her hand resting lightly on his chest.

“Can you feel it?” Denji whispered, voice trembling a little. “That’s… how I feel about you.”

Reze’s green eyes widened, shining with something close to awe.

Then, slowly, she stood beside him. She lifted his hands and pressed them gently to her own chest, mirroring his.

“Can you feel mine?” she asked, smiling softly, sincerely. “That’s how I feel about you.”

Denji’s chest tightened, heart hammering. In that moment, nothing else existed—just them, their warmth, and the gentle sway of sakura petals around them.

Then—bam!

Petals burst across his face. Not from the wind. Not drifting down lazily. From her.

Her hands, no longer pressed to his chest, scooped a handful of sakura and launched it straight at him.

“This must be the special effects I’ve seen in movies!” Reze laughed, petals sticking to her hair. “The flowers scatter or hearts float around the main characters!”

Denji wiped petals from his face, grinning like a man possessed. “You wanna see a better special effect?”

Without warning, his hand left her chest.

RRRRRRRZZZ!

Denji unbuttoned his shirt and yanked the cord. His oversized, wrinkled school uniform shredded as his skin split open, metal teeth of a chainsaw emerging and whirring. Sparks of dust flew faintly from the edges as he flexed, the sound vibrating through the air like a mechanical roar.

He spun the chainsaw in tight, controlled sweeps, careful not to hit Reze.

More parts of his uniform ripped, the air smelled faintly of metal, and with a roar he slashed through the trunk of the sakura tree.

Reze gasped, eyes wide, but laughed immediately as he started cutting the damn tree with his chainsaw. Petals rained down from the broken branches. Then in a swift motion the tree fell to the ground.

“Our movie has an entire sakura tree!” Denji shouted, holding it with his hands and shaking it like a living sprinkler, showering her in a cascade of pink petals.

She threw her head back and laughed, louder than ever. A few petals drifted into her mouth, and she had to cough and giggle at the same time to get them out, her green eyes sparkling with pure joy.

Denji looked at her, chest heaving, petals sticking to his sweat-dampened hair, and thought—this… this was perfect.

She… was perfect.

“There you are.”

A voice drifted through the haze. It was soft and tender. The kind of voice that Denji used to admire.

Now… it sent shivers down his spine.

He blinked and saw her.

Makima.

She stood just beyond the sakura petals, sunlight catching the strands of her long, almost red hair, braided neatly over her shoulder. Her amber eyes were sharp, yet gentle, catching him in a way that made his chest tighten. Her crisp white blouse and fitted black skirt framed her elegance perfectly, every movement deliberate, poised. 

Denji’s stomach knotted. A part of him remembered how he had admired her—how he had loved her, in his own chaotic, messy way. But this… this feeling was different. 

Then it hit him.

Makima wasn’t just there to greet them. She had taken Reze away from him.

Their teacher was smiling—calm, precise, infuriatingly serene—while pulling Reze toward her, dragging her down with unyielding strength. The sound of dirt scraping against Reze’s underwear made Denji’s chest burn in a way he couldn’t ignore.

Reze struggled, pushing and wriggling, but Makima was too strong.

Why couldn’t he move?

He should grab Reze and run.

But his feet were stuck to the ground.

Makima found him. Makima owned his heart. He was Makima’s dog. He’d do anything for her. Denji belonged to Makima…

Until his body betrayed him for Reze.

Right.

His body did move at some point. Betrayed him so recklessly at some point. So why not now?

Now when Makima was the kind of person who could take the one person who made him genuinely, quietly happy… and keep her away from him. Forever.

“Stop!” Denji shouted, voice cracking.

The tree crashed to the ground beside him, petals scattering like pale pink blood.

Makima’s gaze met his, calm and unyielding, and for a moment the world seemed to shrink around them.

He felt it.

Bitter.

A sharp, acrid taste in his throat, like swallowing smoke. His chest tightened, his stomach churned.

Bitter.

Like Reze’s coffee. The one he pretended to drink at her cafè because he wanted to look cool. The cafè where she taught him how to read kanji because… because he never went to school.

He. Never. Went. To. School.

This isn’t real! He’s in a dream!

Then he remembered someone’s voice. Someone had told him before...

“Don’t look at the eyes! Kill yourself in the dream!”

Without much thinking, Denji revved the chainsaw, drove it straight through his burning neck. The Tanjiro boy was right. It worked. The blinding light and the pain was gone, replaced by purple ghee again.

In his mouth.

Somehow the purple substance was in his mouth.

“Chainsaw-sama!” Beam hugged him tight. “You’re finally awake!!!”

“Beam… did you put this in my mouth?”

“Yes, Chainsaw-sama!!!”

“Thanks for the save Beam,” Denji stood up and smiled. "You're right, it is bitter.”

His eyes moved and found Tanjiro. The boy didn’t even glance at him. He leapt forward, body twisting mid-air, sword drawing a perfect spiral.

“Water Breathing, Sixth Form.”

Water. Denji could see water.

“Whirlpool!!”

The entire space was suddenly filled with spiraling water, like Beam’s but stronger, deadlier. Flesh and purple ghee shredded into fine pieces.

The boy with the black sword grabbed a panicking conductor and escaped with a clean, dramatic leap. The boar fiend managed a slightly less clean—but equally dramatic—leap right behind him. But anyhow, they both leapt out just before the black hole of purple ghee was fully sealed.

Denji wasn’t so lucky.

The last sliver of light disappeared, and everything went dark. Thick. Heavy. Suffocating. It smelled so bad, Denji could puke anytime soon.

It was like he was trapped inside a ball of purple ghee.

Guh.

Beam thrashed beside him, he heard the sound of his slippery fin through the ghee, but even his shark form couldn’t slip free.

Denji exhaled once. Actually instead of a ball, it felt like a stomach. No, something… familiar.

“…Tch. It’s just like the Eternity Devil.”

Outside, muffled, Water Boy’s voice echoed. “Stop attacking! We can’t hit the core anymore! Denji-san and Beam-san are still there!”

Another shout followed, it was the boar, “What should we do then?!”

“Focus on your breathing!” Water Boy shouted, “We’ll try to hit only the surface! Don’t use your full power or else it’ll hurt them!”

Hurt? Him?

Nah.

“HEY! Hit this smelly, stupid, diarrhea-colored black hole with your full breathing power! I’ll just EAT whatever’s in here and regenerate!” Denji screamed, sounding like a man already resigned to terrible life choices.

“WHAT?!” both of them shouted.

“I know he doesn’t smell like a demon but why is he regenerating?” Water Boy’s voice was still muffled.

The boar-headed one immediately screeched back at full volume, “AND WHY IS HE EATING THE FUCKING THING, KENTAROU?!”

“It’s Tanjiro!” Water Boy finally snapped.

Right.

His name was Tanjiro, not Water Boy.

“But why is he eating demons…?” Tanjiro continued, sounding genuinely baffled.

Beam poked his head from the sludge. “Chainsaw-samaaaa, I want to live inside your skiiiiin! Not this smelly thing.”

“They don’t sound dangerous…” Tanjiro sounded almost optimistic, “Maybe we can try their strategy!”

“You’re right, they’re not dangerous,” the boar fiend continued. “Just fucking weird. And I approve fucking weird ideas. Go. Inosuke-sama has approved!”

Denji stumbled blindly through the darkness, swallowed by the thick, suffocating ghee that clung to his skin and smelled like shit. The breathing styles had cut through from the outside. Denji and Beam attacked it from the inside.

He could feel their sword cuts slicing from every side, but he didn’t dodge. He didn’t flinch. Every shred of his focus went into slashing and eating. His chainsaw ripped through the enemy while he healed his wounds by chewing the damn ghee.

Bitter.

The same harsh, burnt taste of the coffee he forced himself to drink at Reze’s café, pretending he liked it just because she smiled.

But she smiled, didn't she?

So he braced himself for more bitterness in his mouth, just so that he could see her smiling again.

He would find her and he would see her… smile.

Then in the darkness, he saw another smile. Except this time, it wasn’t like the Eternity Devil.

The eye!

Shit!

Then he saw the kanji eyes blinking again. He was spiraling, rising in a daze and Denji felt himself slipping—pulled back toward her.

Makima’s warmth. Makima’s voice. It was calling him.

“You’re special,” she whispered, soft and tender. “I’ll take care of you.”

He had heard it before.

No, not from her. Someone else.

Reze.

“—run away with me? I’ll make you happy. I'll always protect you.”

Reze!!!

Denji snarled, aimed his chainsaw at his own neck again, and forced his brown eyes open—back into reality.

It wasn’t dark anymore. The moonlight had showered them again.

In fact, the boar fiend had already shattered every other kanji eye in sight.

“Don’t look at the eyes!” he yelled. “Just close your eyes and keep attacking!!!”

“Beast breathing, Fourth Fang.”

The boar fiend jumped so deep into the ghee.

“Slice ’n’ Dice!”

Then Denji could see fire… coming out of Tanjiro’s black sword.

“Clear Blue Sky!”

The ghee erupted—splattering everywhere like thick black paint. Except it didn’t stain anything. Every drop that hit the ground, the trees, their skin simply vanished, dissolving into nothingness the moment it landed.

Then it stopped. No more motion. No more purple. But in a split second, the train slammed side to side. Denji grabbed a handle, but his muscles tightened.

As he clenched his teeth…. everything stabilized and the train just stopped. It stopped… for good.

“What the fuck is going on?!” he yelled, kicking the metal with a sharp clang.

Then, one kanji eye ball floated in the air. It stared right back at Denji, but it didn’t make him sleep. It was like the devil’s power has truly weakened to a point he couldn’t even use his abilities. 

The eyes widened, its grotesque form trembling as it stared at him. “Who… are you?!” it rasped, voice shaking like the rails beneath them.

Denji’s chest heaved.

“What kind of world… was that?” the demon continued, awe and fear tangled in its tone. “Your dream… it’s not of this world. You’re not of this world!”

Denji’s eyes went wide, veins bulging on his neck. “You… you made that dream? You motherfucking asshole made Reze suffer even in my dreams?!”

"No. You did. I only commanded bad and good dreams! The rest… I can only see as the dreamer decided—what they think is good or bad—”

Denji’s chest tightened. His heart felt numb. Was that dream… bad, or good… in his unconscious mind?

The demon’s voice suddenly rose, frantic. “I thought I’d start with a good dream… but your chainsaw… it was still moving, even while you were dreaming!”

Denji’s memory flashed—the sakura tree, sliced clean through. Did it… hit the devil too?

“I had to change it into a bad dream!” the demon shouted, desperation cracking its voice. “But you… you woke up instead!”

Denji’s lips parted, realization dawning. “So… Reze was the good part of my dream… and Makima-san… was the bad part?”

“You… you drank Muzan-sama’s blood in me, and… and you didn’t even turn into a demon?!” His voice broke, a mix of agony and fury. “No… you… you’re already one! Someone else’s creation! Not Lord Muzan’s!”

Denji revved his chainsaw, the teeth biting deep. With a sickening crunch, the demon’s eye shattered under the force of his saw, splitting apart and turning to nothing but ashes.

A hollow, trembling voice echoed from the remnants. “Why…?” it whispered, ragged and broken. “But… I haven’t even swallowed one person in this train… not even… one…”

Tanjiro was staring at them in disbelief. His hand clutching the wounds in his belly. Someone had stabbed him.

“It’s over…” Tanjiro said, “we defeated the demon.”

Something had torn open his belly and he was bleeding hard. Unlike Denji, he couldn’t regenerate. His legs shook, his breath coming in and out almost forcefully.

But somehow he still managed to shout stupid things like— “Inosuke, Denji-san! Beam-san! Protect all the passengers!”

He still cared about other people? When he was literally about to die? Why? He couldn’t even regenerate…

As Denji moved closer, he saw the Water Boy open his mouth again, “save the conductor…”

“I think it’s better if he dies!” the boar fiend shouted, pointing at the conductor whose legs were crushed between the wreckage.

Denji agreed.

“It’s not better…” Tanjiro rasped, struggling to breathe.

“He stabbed you in the stomach, didn’t he?!” the boar fiend barked. “His leg’s crushed! He can’t walk! He’s going to die! Just leave him!”

Denji agreed with that too.

But Tanjiro pressed on. “If that’s the case, then he’s already received his punishment. Please… help him. I beg of you.”

Denji felt his jaw nearly drop. Something twisted inside him—confusion, disbelief. What was this feeling? No one would just save someone who tried to kill them.

Wait. Denji did.

He saved Reze in the water, even when she wanted to kill him.

Why?

He still wanted to see her, find her, run away with her.

Why?

Who the fuck cares?

If Denji didn’t know why he felt that way toward Reze then he didn’t need to know why Tanjiro felt that way toward the conductor.

The boar fiend hesitated.

Denji didn’t. He lunged forward, shifting back to his human form, and rushed to the conductor. “I’ll help him!”

“Denji-san, thank you…”

“Impressive!” A warm, almost commanding voice rose from the ruins.

“Rengoku-san…”

Denji looked up and saw a blonde man with red streaks in his hair, wearing a black uniform. He was… smiling at Tanjiro

“That’s the first step to becoming a Hashira,” he said. “There may be a thousand steps one needs to take to become a Hashira.”

“I’ll do my best…”

“You’re bleeding internally,” he added, crouching closer. “Focus more and increase your breathing accuracy.”

His mentor? Denji wondered.

But something shifted. Denji felt it instantly.

That smell again.

That shitty smell of a devil.

“An Upper Rank Three?” Water Boy whimpered. “But… why?”

From the shadows, Denji saw him. Even at a distance, his presence squeezed the air tight. Pale skin glowing under the moonlight. Deep blue tattoos carving jagged patterns across his arms, chest, and face. Golden irises rimmed in red. Spiky pink hair.

Rengoku left the boy and sprinted toward the figure in the shadow. He left the train, standing face-to-face with the devil on a nearby clearing.

“Flame Breathing, Second Form.”

A large circle of fire cut through the demon’s neck.

“Rising Scorching Sun.”

But the devil side stepped. Instead of his neck, it was his arms that were split and slammed into the floor. Then his hand regenerated—instantly. No blood, no flesh devoured. His arms just… reformed.

He licked his wrist playfully and smiled at Rengoku.

“I am Akaza,” he said. “I’ll tell you why you’ve never crossed into the supreme. It’s because you are a mere human and will die. Become a demon, Kyojuro. If you do, you can continue training. You can become stronger.”

“Growing old and dying is what gives life meaning…”

Wait… what? Devils didn’t just turn humans into devils right? Denji had never heard a devil talk like that before. He didn’t ask Rengoku to form a contract, but to be a demon too? 

Wait. That was what the eyeball told him. That Denji had drunk Muzan’s blood and nothing happened to him. He didn’t turn into a demon, because Denji wasn’t a normal human.

Rengoku looked very human. Tanjiro as well. They couldn’t regenerate so they need Muzan’s blood?

“I’ll say this again,” Rengoku replied steadily. “We have different moral values. I will not become a demon.”

Wait, the dude didn’t want Muzan’s blood.

Then suddenly, the demon shifted into a stance.

“Technique Development, Destructive Death: Compass Needle.”

A flash of light, in the shape of a snowflake, glistened on Akaza’s feet. 

Rengoku tightened his grip.

“If you won’t become a demon…” Akaza smirked. “Then I’ll kill you.”

Everything moved at once. Too fast. Denji’s eyes couldn’t follow. The boar fiend was fast. The train was fast. Reze was fast. But this—

This was like trying to track firecrackers. Like watching debris shoot out from a gunshot.

It was too fast.

Not his problem. It looked like an even fight anyway, and he had something he was supposed to do. Tanjiro had tasked him with helping the conductor, and Denji did just that. When he finally reached the man, he steadied him and slowly removed the metal and stones pinning him down. The conductor’s legs trembled, a groan escaping, but gradually he stabilized and started breathing normally.

“Chainsaw-sama!” Beam surfaced beside him, splashing through the water. “I found her!”

“What? Reze?”

“She’s… she’s running toward the fight!”

Denji’s body moved before his brain could catch up. He didn’t even bother riding Beam. His feet moved on their own. Heat crept up his neck, his pulse racing. The cold night felt suddenly warmer, sweat tracing down his skin as he sprinted.

Then he saw her.

A woman in a white and red haori with a fire pattern on its edges flaring. Violet strands of hair brushing the white fabric as she ran.

“Reze!” he shouted, but she didn’t hear him. Didn’t listen. Her eyes were fixed on the demon and Rengoku.

As Akaza’s punch nearly struck Rengoku, she suddenly stood in front of them.

The punch stopped. It never landed. Only a tremor and a gust of wind swirling around her violet hair, and her haori dropping on the floor.

Denji could see Reze wearing nothing but his shirt.

Rengoku held his breath, frozen behind her.

“Move,” the demon said, his voice low. “I don’t hurt women.”

“That’s too bad…” Reze’s voice was soft, almost hypnotic in Denji’s ear.

“Because I hurt men.”

In a swift motion, Reze embraced Akaza and pushed them far away from Rengoku. Their bodies went flying to the air and then…

Bam!

Her choker snapped free. Denji saw the explosion flare around her, the heat and light throwing shadows across the night sky.